Homeworld: Operation Enfilade
by Omi-kun1
Summary: A secretive operation to end the Imperialists once and fall all. Expected to be 15+ chapters. Some mature language during battle scenes
1. Default Chapter

centerbPrologue: Infiltration/B  
briMission Accomplished/i/center  
p  
A vast belt of asteroids in various sizes circled a nearby star with the grace of ballerinas. Slowly and benevolently they drifted through the void of space with nothing to disturb them but the warm radiance of their magnificent sun.   
p  
Further away in deep space lurked a lone asteroid following its peerless orbit. Silently it rotated about itself. Its surface was rough and vulgar, battered by thousands of micro meteors over the period of millions of years. Bits of crystals and minerals caught the light as they rotated in and out of the sunlight. Its path took it through the asteroid belt and it scattered the smaller asteroids off to their new routes around the distant star.  
p  
Traveling at great speeds across the vast nothingness of space the shower of space rocks hulled themselves away from the relatively ordered paths of the asteroid belt. A solitary pebble was at the head of this outburst. It streaked across the heavens in an otherwise linear path save the sun's gravitational influence. As it followed its new pathway an invisible distortion occluded and disintegrated it. The nugget of ancient minerals crumbled to oblivion and enveloped the object, passing around the surface of the distortion. The astrophysical phenomenon continued its trajectory, leaving a small clump of stardust in its wake.  
p  
Still rotating with its majestic grace the enormous asteroid continued its orbit after breeching the asteroid belt. Utterly unaware of the approaching object, and unable divert even if it did, the huge mass collided with the invisible entity. Instead of smashing against the invisible object, the asteroid engulfed it with its bulk. A depression formed just before a tunnel was carved into the center of it. The event happened too quickly for the asteroid to handle and cracks spiked outward to the surface. The smooth wall of the tunnel was broken as the asteroid crumbled and obliterated to thousands of pieces. The menace left undisturbed.   
p  
The resulting fallout spread and covered a gigantic area of space. Several chunks of the broken off asteroid were further obliterated by other invisible objects. The clusters of space dust revealed six more of these menaces.   
p  
Slowly but steadily they headed toward the same point in space where a colossal object awaited, just beyond the asteroid belt. From further out it would've been indiscernible from the surrounding asteroids and the backdrop of space. But as the cluster of seven closed the distance it slowly became more apparent and visible. Its curved surfaces revealed an elegant design, even through the hazy filter surrounding it. The vessel was unlike any other designs in the known galaxy. Its translucence made it a stealthy ship and the stars on the opposite side were lucidly visible without any diffusion.  
p  
As the squadron returned back to base a section of the object became opaque and the haziness disappeared. Slowly one by one the squadron faded in from their surroundings. Seven strikecraft type combat vessels oriented themselves before docking to the larger ship.  
p  
"This is Bravo-flight, requesting permission to dock." The leader of the squadron said through a secured telemetric laser transmission linked directly to the gigantic oval shaped vessel. As he entered, the surrounding haze disappeared and he could see the side of the ship without its translucent properties.   
p  
The weak scarlet docking lights welcomed him and his team. Its warmth fondled him, inviting him in. "Bravo team, permission granted." the Controller replied with a firm professional voice, "Your port is in sector B-3. The Admiral has requested your docking ASAP." The Controller paused as the squadron accelerated into the safety of the interior, "Welcome back, by the way."  
p  
"Thank you." The leader smiled a little bit, familiarity in his voice. "Glad to be back." iAfter a twenty-hour mission who wouldn't be,/i he thought rhetorically, the ache in his shoulder blades was lost in chaos of sensory overload. The long mission had worn him out and the dull pain from his entire body had long been blocked out through the help of exhaustion. The ship had been on autopilot for the last five hours.  
p  
Moments later the bay doors closed up behind the squadron and the glass-like layer covered it, making it semi-transparent again. A sturdy silence passed as the massive vessel prepared itself. Its exterior remained stagnant. For an infinitesimal moment the entire superstructure became opaque and was exposed to the universe; it's perfectly smooth and vulnerable surface revealed to the outside world. Then a low blue miasma flared around the vessel before a sapphire-blue plasmatic fire from hyperspace engulfed the ship and erased all trace of its existence in the blink of an eye.  
p  
The light emitted by the process passed by unrecorded as a massive fireball six hundred kilometers away blossomed into existence. The intense radiation was comparable to a supernova. Even from the edge of the star system the bright flash of destruction could be observed –- and was by a remote Proximity Star –- even next to the bluish-white fury of the blue giant star. 


	2. The Ambassador

centerbChapter 1: The Ambassador/b  
briA flimsy civilian, a tired Captain, and an ecstatic Admiral./i/center  
p  
A solar system occupied the edge of the IHiigaran Sphere/I – just five light-years away from Hiigara. The star system revolved around a massive main sequence star. Still in its prime the dazzling radiance produced by its core scorched a giant planet twelve million miles away.   
p  
A fountain of ionized gas could be seen discharging from each end of its magnetic pole due to the solar wind. Because its axis was nearly parallel to the ecliptic the gaseous giant was commonly referred to as the "sleeping giant" by the regional patrols because of its similarity to a (well nourished) sleeping child snoring from both ends.  
p  
The gaseous giant blocked most of the incoming radiation. Its shadow was almost completely free of radiation because of the powerful magnetic field generated by the planet. Its two spewing ends were warped by the solar wind, forming an enormous comet trail that encompassed the planet. At the end of the inner trail was a large resource operation. Almost completely obscured by the outer layer of ions, the resource station collected large quantities of the ejected gases from the Sleeping Giant and transfers the vast majority of the harvested resources to a nearby Hiigaran Hyperspace Inhibitor station via four micro-wormholes. Within the opaque streams of ionized trails were sixteen large magnetic traps strategically positioned to maximize resource collection and send it to the central hub before it is sent off to the station just beyond an asteroid belt located farther outward.   
p  
center*****/center  
p  
The hallways were cramped and poorly lit. The sides had pockmarks and long thin metallic scratches where the previous crew had scraped along the sides of the walls with their magnetic boots or some worn out equipment had been carried away to be recycled.   
p  
IEverything had to be recycled!/I Ericia thought contemptuously as she entered the lavatory. The foul stink clogged her nostrils as she squatted, relieving herself. While holding her breath, she thought of the days remaining before her rotation ended in this rotten tin can. She stared up at the little console next to the entrance. It had controlled the ventilation system of the room before it and the ventilation system itself died. No one had fixed it. In the pits of agony, her breath escaped and she quickly gasped. The defiled scent entered. Repulsive.   
p  
Tead, the sensor operator, walked along the corridor to his post. Just as he passed the lavatory the door slammed open and knocked him out. Ericia gushed out of the little contaminated room, choking and utterly unaware of the vapid man floating away. One of her hands was holding up her loose trousers and the other covering her mouth. With one leg snapped to the wall she used her other to shut the door and seal the fetid stench in the lavatory for the next desperate personnel.   
p  
No one onboard dared to enter the three lavatories on the station unless they absolutely had to. And thanks to the low laxative meals, no one needed to do so more than once a week.  
p  
Tead stirred a little as he regains consciousness. Showers of hot sparks masked his vision. The blinding pain in the back of his head was overwhelming. Slowly he willed to suppress all of it as the sharp pain turned to a dull throb pounding against the beat of his heart. He caught the floor with his magnetic shoes and turned to see Ericia gasping for the recirculated but nearly odorless air. As his senses returned, he could feel the aroma making him reek. He stepped several paces back, trying to comprehend the unexpectedness of this incident.   
p  
"What the hell was that?" He said, exhaustion clawing him.   
p  
Ericia managed to catch her breath and tighten her pants, "Sorry, its only my second time." she said with a embarrassed smile and a revolted gesture.  
p  
Tead took another breath, "Oh, so I see." the entire outpost, with its crew of six, had met the flimsy Ericia HiirLra when she first arrived. "Be more careful next time." he left the hallway, rubbing his head, still in a state of shock.  
p  
"Sorry," Ericia breathed, her face glowing with embarrassment. She swallowed, got up, and went back to her quarters.  
p  
The walk was short because most of the vital compartments were next to one another. The entire facility was barely larger than a carrier. Complete with a small production bay for maintenance work, six super-frigate size nuclear reactors, and minor resource process units. The IDump/I –- as everyone called it –- was about the worst rotation any personnel could receive and was considered a punishment when a crew was assigned to it.  
p  
Ericia opened the hatch to her dark private quarters. The door opened unevenly and stopped midway. She squeezed herself in and manually shut it. Standing in the dark room Ericia ruminated over her present situation. When she couldn't think of anything she flipped the light switch and waited for it to flicker several times before stabilizing at half power. Everything was either broken or halfway there.   
p  
She disabled her magnetic boots and pushed herself against the door toward the opposite end of the room where a digital pad lay. It was the latest message from her boyfriend, Marcos, which she saved for now. Carefully she picked it up and opened it with a tap on the flat screen. Her face lit up along with the screen as she read the note. She smiled softly with delight. It was the only thing that kept her mentally stable, passing messages and receiving them was what kept her confident each day under the horrendous environment.  
p  
As she finished reading the note, she opened her cramped view port and strained herself to look in the direction of the Inhibitor station, which was partially blocked by the streaming gas so much like that of the desert storms back on Karak she had heard so much about from her parents.  
p  
center*****/center  
p  
Captain Marcos was headed a flight of nine advance interceptors. They passed a patrolling destroyer – a relic of the Revelation class – at high speeds and turned to their second patrol point. IEverything is so repetitive and dull,/I Marcos thought for the ten thousandth time. IEvery single piece of equipment must be obsolete before it is sent to us as "relieve support."/I He loathed the assault carrier passing through the Gate. It was the latest design with the latest technology: It was a Nabaal warship.  
p  
He took his eyes off of the carrier and its escorts to focus on his job – patrolling the wasteland of Tavon. As the squadron turn yet again for the third patrol point, the massive sun of the Tavon system came to view. Automatically the canopy altered its opacity to compensate for the brilliance.   
p  
IAt least there's one good thing about this piece of junk./I Marcos silently gratified the change. The squadron had recently replaced the Blade Mk. 5 interceptors with the Mk. 5c version. The 5c version is still in beta stage and Marcos had to convince his team to be the guinea pigs. It was a desperate attempt to keep the outdated Mk. 5 fighters in service rather than purchasing the Acolytes from the Somtaaws, which were exhaustively high maintenance and overall expensive crafts without the benefits.  
p  
Marcos chuckled to himself at his accomplishments, which were nearly none. He set aside the past and the deal, trying to keep the delta formation strict and exact. IDon't want those Nabaals to think of us as lazy no good—/I  
p  
"Captain Marcos, this is Six-three." one of the pilots called out, interrupting Marcos' thoughts.  
p  
"Six-three, this is Six-lead." Marcos replied, "Anything wrong?"  
p  
"No, Captain." the pilot began, "It's just that I thought I saw something peculiar."  
p  
"And that is?"  
p  
"I can't be sure. I caught something in my peripheral vision. When I tried to look at it, it was gone."  
p  
"Roger that, keep on alert. We may have to deal with it later." Marcos knew there was nothing wrong. They had already circulated through the patrol points four times and he was sure it was just a symptom of fatigue.   
p  
Marcos turned his head and spotted Six-three, making sure he wasn't deliriously swerving. After several moments he turned back with a smile. INothing's wrong, he's just a little paranoid./I All of a sudden he noticed Jovis, the sleeping giant. Should I? He hesitated for a brief moment before activating his telescope in the dome at the front of the craft where most of the sensory instruments were. He focused on the IDump/I inside the cometic tail behind Jovis, wondering if Ericia was trying to find him at that moment. He smiled at the thought. IShe probably is, poor girl. If only she just behaved in front of the commanding officers, then none of this would've happened. Well, she probably wouldn't do such a disobedient thing in the future, not after this./I  
p  
Marcos managed to snap back and make the turn for the next patrol point just in time. That was close. He could feel cold sweat in his flight suit. II'll need to pay more attention next time./I  
p  
center*****/center  
p  
"This is Bravo lead, status report." It was wholly dark outside and there was no sense of movement, forcing him to navigate entirely on his flight instruments. The cockpit glowed from the lighted panels in front of him.  
p  
"Bravo-two, package attached."br  
"Bravo-three, package attached."br  
"Bravo-four, package attached."br  
"Bravo-five, in position."br  
"Bravo-six, in position."br  
"Roger that Bravo team. Proceed to phase two."br  
"Bravo-two, copied."br  
"Bravo-three, copied."br  
"Bravo-four, copied."br  
"Bravo-five, copied."br  
"Bravo-six, copied."  
p  
The mission required great patience and discipline. It was going to be another five hours before every objective would be completed. They will have to fight the fatigue and muscle aches until they are safely docked at the end of the mission.  
p  
center*****/center  
p  
From the depths of space a vortex split the void and expanded it to a two-dimensional square, the pale cerulean fire of hyperspace dissipating from the portal. It slithered backwards in a slow poise, revealing the latest modification of the Imperator class carrier from the kiith'sa Naabal. Its decorations and insignia informed of its significance. For the briefest moment it rested in the void, completely devoid of any protection.  
p  
Admiral Orin Naabal stood firmly on the commanding deck of the bridge, his magnetic boots securing him firmly against the metallic floor; cold, hard, and precise. He surveyed the crew in their stations. His head scanned for any imperfections in the bridge as he waited for the monitor to initiate. Behind a noncommittal complexion his heart lurched as the panoramic display revealed the thirteen-hyperspatial portals opening around his vessel in a protective formation. IIt's great to be alive./I  
p  
"ITiir-Ska/I reporting in. IKall-Ra/I reporting in…" One by one the escorting vessels reported their status after completely exiting hyperspace. "Roger that Angel Battle Group," The Comm. crew replied as every last escorting unit submitted their status.  
p  
"Good," Admiral Orin acknowledged quietly, "Have the Angel-Vengeance squadron form a loose sphere formation around us and direct the Angel-Perdition group in a protective delta configuration around them."  
p  
"Ay-aye, Admiral." The Communication personnel responded and transferred the orders down through the hierarchy, "What do you wish the Angel-Claw squadron to do, Admiral?" He asked, referring to the three new Avatar class Heavy Cruisers.  
p  
"Send them ahead as our vanguard."  
p  
"Ay-aye, Admiral."  
p  
IEven at my age I can still be a piss-cutter of an Admiral, /I Orin thought, pride instilling him. He was on the returning trip of one of the most elaborate baby sitting missions of his entire thirty-six year career in the Hiigaran Navy. Though the mission involved the ambassador and his cabinets and was therefore important, it was highly rudimentary and unchallenging. The boredom had almost driven Orin to the brink of insanity except for the thought of returning back to Hiigara, where his family awaited.  
p  
"Set course for the Hiigaran Inhibitor at two-thirds power." Orin said after the escorting units positioned themselves into the correct location around the carrier. He would have ordered maximum speed but such impatience was the cause of critical failures in any mission. Thirty-plus years of experience had taught him to be cautious and vigilant: a stray asteroid in a sensor shadow can obliterate the carrier if big enough; there was no way to avoid it if the speed was too fast and there were not enough maneuvering thrusters equipped on the vessel, as the IKar-Titania/I had proven.   
p  
Ahead he could see a squadron of Blade 5c Heavy Interceptors passing by on their patrol route and the rotating Hyperspace Inhibitor station just sixty kilometers away. IAnother six hours and I'll be home again, with my family. /I  
p  
center*****/center  
p  
The light indigo glow of the hangar was welcoming to the seven pairs of sore eyes entering the main docking area. Complying with the standard docking procedures the seven Blade Mk. 5c fighters glided in at a mere fraction of combat speed. The ends of the interceptors were blackened from the plasma exhaust and cooled from the frigid space surrounding them.  
p  
"Six-flight, you're issued C7 as your dock." The Traffic Controller announced in a professional yet depressive attitude. The routine got to everyone, sooner or later.  
p  
"Roger that, TC." Marcos replied after a slight startle. His mind was somewhere else again. IThe first thing I'm going to do is take a shower…/I Marcos thought, instinctively maneuvering his fighter toward a small group of loading pads next to the assembly line.  
p  
The landing was smooth and uneventful. All sixteen pit-crews were quick to lock down all strikecrafts. Within two minutes Marcos was out of the hangar walking down the hallway at the head of his team. The five-hour patrol was tedious and dreary. Most of the pilots were exhausted and starving. The only thing on Marcos' mind was that long hot shower.  
p  
"Marcos," Gray called from the end of the line, "Captain, may I speak with you for a moment?"  
p  
Marcos turned and let the other team members pass. He decided he wasn't that desperate for that shower. "Yes?" Marcos tried not to show his fatigue.   
p  
"Sir, I have compiled a profile of what I saw during the patrol." He held out a squared piece of ceramic material containing more data than the private library of antique books somewhere in the Hyperspace Inhibitor station.  
p  
Marcos stared at it for a while, transfixed at the all-too-common diskette as if he had never seen anything like it before. It took several blinks before he managed to come out of his stupor and take the disk from Gray. "Thank you, I'll take a look at it as soon as possible." He said with a warm yet empty smile, the exhaustion overwhelming him.   
p  
"Sir." Gray saluted energetically; he was still new. Marcos returned the salute and dismissed him.  
p  
Wearily he managed to drag himself to his private quarters and tossed the solid-state disk on the table. The thought of a hot bath suddenly vanished and he crumbled on top of the bunk.   
p  
Sleep engulfed him instantly.  
p  
center*****/center  
p  
"This is carrier Daphnia of kiith Naabal –" The Communication Officer began as the ambassador fleet approached the Hyperspace Inhibitor station.  
"We've been expecting you, carrier Daphnia." The other CO replied, "Please proceed to coordinate 0038 for inspection."  
p  
"Copied."  
p  
IEverything was well coordinated and punctual; perfect harmony,/I Admiral Orin delighted in the thought as he saw the station grow to immense proportions as they closed in. It was a non-descriptive station the size of a mothership. The monstrosity was composed of several rotating structures that created a distortion in the fabric of space-time, collapsing any quantum tunneling effect, i.e. inhibiting any hyperspatial travel through this region. The Admiral recollected his memory banks from his days at the Academy classes.   
p  
"Status report." He ordered as the ambassador himself came in on an unscheduled inspection.  
p  
"Admiral, the structural integrity of the ship is at one-o-one percent with every system, subsystem, and backup system in full operation at one-hundred efficiency." The System Specialist reported immediately.  
p  
"The reactor drive is running at seventy percent with the output at approximately two-third as ordered. The hyperspace drive is fully operational and the capacitors are charging. Capacity at 8 percent and change."  
p  
"Admiral, estimated time to arrival at IHiigara/I is five hours and seventeen minutes after the state-inspection. Estimated time to next hyperspace jump is one hour."  
p  
Admiral Orin smiled to himself with a noncompetitive pride before turning to greet the ambassador. "Dr. Kaylon Sjet, how may I be of service?"  
p  
"Admiral Orin Naabal," He was a bulky man of small stature with muscular features even at his age of eighty-nine. Dr. Kaylon Qu'dar Sjet had served as one of the members of Fleet Intelligence along side with Orin during the Kushan Exodus. "I was wondering how long will I have to wait before I can speak with you in private."  
p  
"Why certainly, Dr. Kaylon, I'm currently free if now is convenient for you."  
p  
"Yes, that would be fine." He headed for the hatch and walked out toward Admiral Orin's private room. Orin followed silently.  
p  
The ambassador began as soon as Orin secured the hatch. "I have an urgent message from the Galactic Council requesting your full cooperation."  
p  
Orin tried not to look surprised at the abruptness from the ambassador. "Of course, you must surely know that I will cooperate, especially if it's from the Galactic Council." He replied, trying to stall. Immediately Orin thought the urgency of this for Dr. Sjet to come to the point so quickly.  
p  
"Good, I've been trying to discuss this with you since we left the convention." He began, a sense of frantic showing in his eyes. "There have been rumors of an assassination in the wrap."   
p  
"Why, you don't really believe in rumors, do you?" Orin said, dragging it out.  
p  
"Of course not. However, just after the convention one of the assistance from a Council member handed me a note urging me to return to IHiigara/I as soon as possible." He paused to catch his breath, and then began again, not letting Orin interrupt. "I'm not sure what to make of all this, but I believe there will be oppositions waiting for us somewhere in our journey."  
p  
Admiral Orin did not speak; the thought was too surreal for him to immediately grasp. He opened his mouth as if to say something but nothing came out. His mind was racing, thinking of ambush plans and counter tactics. IThe perfect place for an ambush was twenty some light-years back when they passed by the supernova, or through the asteroid rich cloud outside of that system. Here we have reinforcements in abundance, if the attack were to be conducted within this region we would be able to target them before they completely exit hyperspace. And they can't escape because of the Inhibitor. Unless…/I  
p  
"I advice extreme precaution and not to instigate any further unnecessary delays." Dr. Kaylon continued, beads of perspiration forming on his high forehead. "I must deliver this to the Daiamid as soon as possible." He held out a spherical globe in the palm of his hand.  
p  
Orin studied its surface: it was hard and marble like, undoubtedly a new type of solid-state storage media. The carvings on the poles of this media ball were highly intricate and complex. Orin focused on that part of the sphere. Absorbing its style and etching it into his mind. As he stared into it an illusive movement pervaded through him as if his surroundings swirled about him. He blinked to stop the convulsive delusion. IMy eyes must be playing tricks on me again./I He concluded.  
p  
"I'm counting on you to store this for me until we reach IHiigara/I. There maybe spies hidden among my advisors and I can't trust them. Can I trust you?" Kaylon asked, counting on the years working side by side with the Admiral in the Intelligence section. "Can I depend on you to keep this in save keeping?"  
p  
A hesitation, "Yes, you can depend on me." Orin replied. He had a secret compartment hidden from view in his private quarter. "But why–"  
p  
"Admiral, we require your presence at the bridge immediately." The XO's voice from the intercom. interrupted.  
p  
"Here, take it." The ambassador shoved the marble-like orb into the Orin's hand before quickly departing the room. Orin waited after the elder ambassador before scuttling toward the commanding bridge. 


	3. The Ambush

centerbChapter 2: The Ambush/b  
briThe beginning of utter destruction./i/center  
p  
Dreamlessly time swept passed without a hiss. Marcos blinked several times before he was sure he was awake. He lay on the dense mattress, slipping in and out of consciousness as he toyed with the idea of taking that shower.  
p  
Then all of it was forgotten as a loud buzzard reverberated through the small cell of his private quarter. He snapped out of his bemusement and streaked out of the room in a mindless but vigilant daze, heading for the launch deck. Throughout the hall he could see crimson red emergency lights filling the passage with a sense of urgency he had never experienced before.  
p  
"What's going on?" Marcos managed to blurt out as he reached the launch room.  
p  
"It's the ambassador fleet! They're under attack!" Cried one of the operators just as the rest of Six-team arrived, most of them half or barely dressed.   
p  
"Get your flight suits on, we're heading for combat!" His order barely carried over the deafening roar of the sirens and the loud screech from the commander of the station ordering all crafts to be scrambled out.  
p  
"Yes, Captain!" The team responded with surprising agility as they hurried to the flight rooms and changed.  
p  
Within moments they were ready and so were their fighters. The seven pilots switched off their magnetic boots and jumped toward their cockpits under the low gravity. They caught the rails on the sides of the canopy and swung themselves into position. A low rumble could be felt through out the dock as the fighters initiated their semi-self-sustained nuclear reactors.  
p  
The mechanics and engineers were safely behind shielded compartments. The local personnel responsible for the dock gave the pilots the go ahead signal. Their expressions a mix of panic and excitement. Soon, all of it was obscured by the plasma thrust exuding out of the ends of the interceptors.   
p  
center*****/center  
p  
IShit/I! Admiral Orin Naabal thought instinctively as he saw the five orange blimps encroaching on the left screen in his station. The computer-generated display was based on an estimation of speed and direction of the crafts previously detected. But there were no confirmation of their coordinates after the intruders breeched the twenty-kilometer perimeter.   
p  
"Analysis?" He requested.  
p  
"Sir, from what we've gathered there're 5 crafts, approximately corvette class in size."  
p  
IWhy are they sending corvettes?/I He asked himself, trying to guess the enemy's move. Then the obvious answer came to him: IDecoys!/I "Activate all ECM and ESM equipments and give me a thirty-ping analysis." IThe actual strike force must be within the vicinity, probably hiding behind cloak generators./I  
p  
IDaphnia/I is the only ship of its class equipped with an Integrated Proximity X type sensor-array built directly into its inner and outer hull. The IPX worked by radiating bursts of electromagnetic waves called pings. The higher the ping-number the greater accuracy and detectable range of the analysis will be generated. A thirty-ping pulse is the standard military protocol when enemies are suspected to be within a fifty-kilometer radius.  
p  
"Deploying all Electronic Support Measures and readying all Electronic Counter Measures on stand by for immediate deployment." The ECM/ESM officer replied at once.  
p  
"Admiral, three-zero ping analysis indicates no enemies in the detectable vicinity."   
p  
"Broadcast all active sensors on full and heightened. Sound General Quarters and order two missile destroyers, IRaf-Sak/I and IRaf-Kal/I, to intercept the corvettes." Orin's mind was racing. What kind of tactic is this? His eyes looked around unconsciously as he tried to remember any military doctrines by any forces, friend or foe, with similar attacking procedures. IHow could the enemy send such a small squadron against us? And what kind of new cloaking devices are they using that could elude even our sensors?/I  
p  
"Destroyers in position, Admiral."  
"Fire when ready."  
"Aye, sir."  
"Should we request reinforcements, Admiral?" This was the XO, second in command of the ship.  
"No, we can handle a few pesky corvettes." IIf the enemy wishes to send in a suicide squad, then let them./I  
p  
Suddenly the squadron of five revealed themselves to the armada, their dark hulls hard to distinguish from the backdrop. They were in a very loose formation and a full ninety degrees portside of where they were expected to be.  
p  
"Admiral! We have them on screen." A window of the intruders popped open on the main screen.  
p  
"Fire!" Orin ordered.  
p  
The general order by the Admiral meant all combat ready crafts were to initiate the usual exchange of projectiles. The four Destroyers were separated into two pairs and both groups immediately released their loads of missiles. The three Heavy Cruisers trained their immense ion cannons and heavy turrets on the enemy crafts. Even the six Assault frigates unloaded their share.   
p  
Amidst the seizure of heavy caliber shells and volleys of missiles loaded with plasma warheads the enemy corvettes blended into the fabric of space and avoided all incoming fire. They did not reemerge until the last of the ion beams finished their first and longest burst.   
p  
IDid we get them?/I Admiral Orin wanted to question but knew that would be impudent and restrained himself. Instead he said, "Enemy status report."  
p  
"Admiral, there was no physical confirmation of the destruction of the enemy," No explosions or debris. "But I don't think they could've very well survived that."  
p  
"Admiral, we need a designation for these USOs." Any unknown crafts are labeled as Unidentified Spatial Objects by default.  
p  
"Phantoms," Orin said, saying the first thing that came to his mind.  
p  
Before Orin could give another order two of the five 'Phantom' corvettes decloaked and trained their guns toward the carrier, their movements irrefutably deft and graceful, before disappearing again. No sign of aggression was made, but the Assault Frigate directly between the carrier and the corvettes exploded as two small gaps formed from the shells as they entered the bow of the vessel and its reactor in the rear exploded. Two streaks of light exited the frigate, ricocheting the sides of the carrier. The shot had punctured the core of the frigate reactor and the superheated plasma melted through the opening and ignited the ammunition hold at the front of the ship within moments.   
p  
"Helms, full reverse!" Orin yelled in aghast at the brusqueness of the assault. "Bring us thirty degrees starboard!" IThe reactor of the frigate was about to explode any moment!/I  
p  
At that instant the reactor overloaded and the superheated plasma ate their way through the plasma storage and the nuclear fusion reaction spread across to the hydro-plasmatic compartment. With the dampening field no longer functioning, the fusion process grew exponentially before the structural integrity of the ship failed all together. The frigate was blown to oblivion as the lower rear section of the ship disintegrated into its basic sub-atomic components by the intensity of the heat blast. The multitudes of radiation shielding held the bridge intact as it was propelled to the depths of space by the fusion blast. The combined detonation of the nuclear reactor and the ammunition dump instantaneously vaporized the bow.  
p  
The concussion shook the bridge of the commanding carrier and the rest of the escorting fleet. Admiral Orin was knocked off his station and hit the side of the room by the shock wave.   
p  
"Admiral, are you hurt?" The XO hurried to help him.  
p  
"Yes, I'm fine." Orin took a deep breath, "Order the Angel-Per and Claw squadron to train their guns at 'em, and put everyone on full alert!"  
p  
IThe attack was too sudden, what kind of weaponry are those?/I The XO thought, his state of mind still intact. IWe can't even detect them when they're right next to us. And their firepower is several orders of magnitudes above ours!/I  
p  
"Call for backups. We'll need everything we can get." Admiral Orin was racing to the brink of exhaustion. II'm not built for this./I "How long before we can hyper out of here?"  
p  
"Capacitors are at 98 percent, we should be ready in another minute."  
p  
center*****/center  
p  
The partial impacts on the carrier knocked everyone in the hangar out of balance in the zero gravity of outer space. The Spectra flight team was taking care of their wing of Spectre Cloak Fighters when the shocks interrupted their regular maintenance. The Admiral had ordered all fighters to remain in the hold and consequently made no announcements of the ambush to the hangar bay.  
p  
"What was that?" Lieutenant Goten Naabal exclaimed, floating off to the ceiling of the hangar. The delicate inner components of the Spectre fighters had forced the crew to take off their magnetic boots before dismantling the fighters. He pulled his safety cable around his waist to get back down to the hangar floor.  
p  
The rest of the squadron was carping with agony as they bounced off of whatever crates or surfaces they had happened to crash into. Several unsecured pipes and small metallic carcasses floated away. None of them seemed to be paying any attention to their leader.  
p  
As Lieutenant Goten reeled himself back toward his craft, the siren rang off, signaling imminent hyperspace entry. "IWhat the…/I" Everything was too sudden, only moments before Goten felt the carrier maneuvered in such a way as if it was positioning it self in a defensive pose, now this. It suddenly came to him: IWe're under attack. Why didn't the Admiral sound General Quarters?/I He didn't know nor did he care. He snapped back on a small section of hull plating he had just took out and prepared his fighter for immediate takeoff while his crew and the rest of the staff urged him to leave for the inner quarters just outside of the bay. Launch bays in carriers are especially vulnerable when undergoing hyperspace entry and exit.  
p  
center*****/center  
p  
The group of 7 Blade Mk. 5c rose above the launch pads and inserted themselves for launch. "This is Six-team, we're ready for launch." Marcos said into the microphone implanted into his helmet. The Traffic Controller replied by raising the blast shield and gave Marcos the green sign for takeoff. Marcos slid the throttle forward and blasted out of the hangar. His teammates streaming behind, just aft of him.  
p  
Immediately Marcos saw the Naabal carrier, already in place for the hyperspace entry. Surrounding it were five modified Assault Frigates in a tight protective fan formation, three heavy cruisers as the vanguard, and four missile destroyers in two pairs off to either side of the carrier. Marcos didn't recognize the models or the variations of the escorts nor the carrier itself, but he instantly marked out the shimmering sparkles seemingly dashing in and out of reality. There were no IFF signatures from the mysterious objects and all of the missile trails were encircling them – failing to get a hard lock. There were already six other strikecraft formations strafing into and out of the small cluster of Phantoms.   
p  
In many ways the havoc in front of him reminded him of an organized chaos. Like pulsars pounding out radio waves to the beat of his thoughts from their most violent and erratic core. There was a rhythm to the ghost-like attackers that he couldn't predict. An algorithm unbreakable even by Karan Sjet, ex-Fleet Command, herself. He discarded the idea and ordered his squadron toward the Phantoms, joining the other defending Hiigaran flights.  
p  
"Six-flight, go evasive and form claw, two-one, on me." Marcos ordered and the team responded instantly with four fighters forming the upper claw and two forming the lower claw. He could tell everyone was thoroughly pumped for action. "Gray, how many of them do you see?" He knew Gray had the best eyesight and judgment.  
p  
"Six-three," Gray reported in, " I see four – no, make that five."  
p  
"Roger that, commence flight path epsilon-eight." Marcos ordered as Six-flight approached the Phantoms. His strikecraft rattled intensively as he pushed his fighter toward the extreme. The acceleration was exhilarating. The immense thrust gave him a psychological sense of protection as he dove toward the fray.   
p  
The flight of seven interceptors broke off formation as they entered the field of fire. Missile trails obscuring other fighters. They opened fire wildly toward the invisible intruders and flew into the cloud of pandemonium.  
p  
IBoom, boom, boom./I  
p  
Fireballs exploded in the mist of the chaos. The random firing struck five missiles and the explosions ripped into a wing of Light Interceptors. Two other missiles struck a flight of Attack Bombers by accident and another crashed into Six-flight. Fighters snapped into pieces as friendly fire inadvertently broke each other's backs and they twisted uncontrollably onward like cometic fireball. Other bombers intercepted these shrapnel and missiles and were lacerated to pieces. Spewed plasma glowed brightly and caught onto several more Hiigaran fighters, causing even more explosions.  
p  
"Diverge!" Marcos ordered as more and more explosions clogged his screen and his sensors. The raging fury of the blossoming inferno consumed more and more of his flight. The mass of fireballs grew larger and larger as it devoured more fighters. "Get your asses out of here!" He screamed into the intercom., the anxiety overwhelming him.  
p  
"Copied!" Only one teammate, Gray, made out of the mayhem alive. Then only after they had completely escape did he add, "Sir, those are exactly what I saw during the patrol."  
p  
"Roger that, lets retreat and regroup with the rest of the fleet." Marcos turned toward the Naabal carrier. IShit!/I He realized. He had left the diskette from Gray on the table of his quarter.  
p  
center*****/center  
p  
"IOPEN THE HANGAR!/I" Lieutenant Goten ordered tauntingly, infuriated at the incompetence of the Admiral. IWe need to get out there and fight!/I "Open it now!"  
p  
"Are you deaf?" The Flight Control, Davik Naabal, was equally enraged at the open insolence of the pilot. "The Admiral specifically ordered no one is allowed out of the hangar. And that means Iyou/I, too!"  
p  
"Shit, Davik, if you don't open the damn door right now I'll blow it off!" Goten was furious, his rage gaining control over him. IIf we don't fight then we won't make it, strike crafts are the backbones of any forces, shouldn't even that/I idiotic IAdmiral know that?/I "For the last time, IOPEN IT!/I"  
p  
"And for the last time: INO MEANS NO!/I" Davik commed the Admiral before anything serious happened. Davik knew Lieutenant Goten well, and he knew that Goten wasn't bluffing.   
p  
"Then you leave me no choice." Goten lowered his voice, a delirious smile spread beneath his airtight helmet and he whispered, "I always hated this hangar, anyway."   
p  
"No, wait. IDON'T!/I" Davik shouted at the top of his lungs. "We're hypering out'a her' right now."  
p  
center*****/center  
p  
A deafening roar pierced through the bridge as the explosions from the cruisers rocked the bridge. Three blistering fireballs scorched the carrier and its escorts' armor plating with the wrath of a nova. The entire command deck trembled from the multiple concussions.   
p  
"Fire everything we have!" Orin ordered over the raging blast. "Where're the reinforcements?"   
"Sir, they're ten more seconds away."  
IHow do we stall?/I "Tell the Perditions to initiate their Missile Volley attack!"  
"Ay-ay, Admir-"  
"Admiral, we have an emergency situation down on the launch deck!"  
p  
IWhat?/I "Patch me through!" He picked up his headset. "What?" A distant voice informed him of Goten's defiance. "Get him on the line!" Orin had no time for this insubordination. Unfortunately, an explosion in the hangar may disrupt the quantum waveform, blowing their only chance of escaping alive.  
p  
"Admiral, we won't survive if there's no strike craft support. Let me go!"  
p  
"Stop your insolence at once or I'll strip you of your rank and send you to the Kadeshi!" Orin threaten as he caught sight of two Blades go up in flames. "Davik, you have my permission to stop him through any means."  
p  
"Yes, Admiral."  
p  
"Admiral, capacitors're at one-hundred p–"   
p  
"Engage hyperdrive now! And tell the escorts to dump everything they've got and get themselves out of here!" Admiral Orin was on primitive instincts: fight or flight, and stay fighting would mean certain death.  
p  
A chorus of acknowledgements followed as the officers continued to work through the havoc.   
p  
center*****/center  
p  
Gleaming flashes caught his eyes. Several streaks of light exited out of one of the missile destroyers. Instantly the destroyer broke into two pieces as the plasma escaped and burned through the conduits and structural beams, crushing its spine. The nuclear reactor went critical and erupted with an exuberant intensity. The concussion wiped out the surviving fighters and knocked Marcos and Gray away from the carrier group.   
p  
"Argh!" Marcos exclaimed, trying to recover from the eruption. "Gray, are you alright?"  
"Yeah, what was that?"  
"It must've been from the enemy." Marcos concluded, not yet knowing who or what the enemy is.  
"Right, what are your orders?"  
"Nuh…" Marcos stuttered, somewhat lost and irresolute. "We'll head for them, phase-theta, whatever they may be." He said as he quickly made up his mind. "We mustn't let them intercept the ambassadors."  
"Roger!"  
p  
Just then three rays of light burst out of the vanguard cruisers. Two of them blew their ends apart; the force driving whatever remained forward. The remaining one stopped its random firing and started to rotate about its central axis; its navigation lights flickered out as the central and auxiliary power gave out; the engine compartments blew to oblivion as the fail-safe shutdown mechanism tore itself apart. Minor explosions dotted the side of the engine section of that heavy cruiser as the thrusters at the back were blown away by the detonation. The Naabal's insignia on the side was obliterated by the discharges.   
p  
"Charge!" Marcos and Gray spearheaded their way toward the enemy, their guns blazing.   
p  
As the two lone fighters closed in one of the attacking corvettes unveiled it self and fired two shots toward them. They tried to evade but it wasn't fast enough. Two rays of light ruptured out of the Blades and shot out in the opposite direction of the seemingly invincible attackers. Both cockpits blasted away before their ships were ripped apart and disintegrated like a fragile meteor entering the Hiigaran atmosphere. Marcos and Gray ascended away from the fireballs, escaping certain death by a hairline.  
p  
By now the five remaining Assault Frigates had formed a tight wall formation in front of the Naabal carrier and the three remaining missile destroyers dumped every canister they had at the encroaching aggressors.  
p  
A large blue square opened in front of the carrier and swallowed it. Moments later the missile destroyers also hyperspaced away, followed by the five frigates. They escaped unharmed as four squadrons of heavy corvettes pounded at the menaces with charged bursts, covering their retreat.  
p  
center*****/center  
p  
IWhat was that?/I The XO, Johan Dio'ru Naabal, thought as the ghostly blue rectangular corridor enveloped the entire carrier. The throbbing adrenaline pulsated through his temple and the along back of his head.  
p  
"Status report?" The Admiral ordered, taking in deep breaths.  
p  
"Structural integrity at eighty-seven percent, Admiral, we only suffered minor external hull damages. Though section thirty-three has lost primary power. They've switched to auxiliary feed, and they estimated it'd be another thirty minutes before they can fix the conduits at that end."  
p  
"Good, how is the hyperspace waveform looking?"  
"Sir, no observable fluctuations have been recorded. ETA to Hiigara in approximately five hours."  
p  
The Admiral gave a curt grunt in acknowledgement, paused as if to reflect, and then proceeded to his private quarter, giving Johan the con of the ship.  
p  
Johan stood beside the Admiral's place of honor and supervised the base of operation. He had noticed the Admiral didn't asked for the status of the rest of the fleet, but then again there was no need to: Dauphin, the leading Assault Frigate, was the first vessel lost, saving carrier Daphnia just barely; then the Arach was the next victim, followed by the Claw squadron. IThree cruisers at once./I Hiigara has never suffered such a defeat. Only the Taiidani had experienced such a slaughter, and that was during the Exodus.  
p  
IWhy did they attack us? Or more importantly, who or what are they? Such a feat is unimaginable. Defeating an armada with five ships the size of corvettes? And with the grace of dancers as well, as if it was a demonstration,/I a play! ICould it be the Bentusi that did this to us? Only they could harness such firepower. But what could be the reason? And what did the ambassador want with the Admiral?/I Johan set aside the overwhelming questions when it became too unbearable and remained still with his back erect and his face expressionless and watching over the crew.   
p  
However much he tried to bury it, a feeling crept up from the floor, through his spine, and into his mind. A deep, mortal fear: IHiigara is in danger./I 


End file.
